Comedy of the Week - Henry Normal: A Normal... Humanity

Episode Date: June 23, 2025

Join Henry Normal as he uses his unique blend of comedy and poetry to investigate what it truly means to be human.How are we different from other animals? Is there such a thing as a soul? Is it green or brown bin day today?These are just some of the unanswered questions Henry will be leaving unanswered in this new show, recorded live at the Hay-on-Wye Festival. This is the latest episode in his acclaimed, occasional series where the celebrated writer tackles subjects so vast only radio can possibly contain them.Written and performed by Henry Normal Production Coordinator - Katie Baum Produced by Carl CooperA BBC Studios production for BBC Radio 4To listen to more episodes from this series search "Henry Normal" on BBC Sounds.-- Henry Normal is a multi-award winning writer, producer and poet. Co-writer of TV classics including The Royle Family, The Mrs Merton Show, Coogan’s Run and Paul Calf, and producer of, amongst many others, Oscar-nominated Philomena, Gavin and Stacey and Alan Partridge.He’s published twelve collections of poetry, including his most recent An Alphabet of Storms, and co-wrote the memoir A Normal Family with Angela Pell – the everyday adventure of life with their autistic son.Praise for previous episodes in this series:"Shove up National Treasures. We need to make room for Henry Normal" – Simon O'Hagan, Radio Times-"It's a rare and lovely thing: half an hour of radio that stops you short, gently demands your attention and then wipes your tears away while you have to have a little sit down"-"It's a real treat to hear a seasoned professional like Henry taking command of this evening comedy spot to deliver a show that's idiosyncratic and effortlessly funny"-"Not heard anything that jumps from hilarious to moving in such an intelligent, subtle way as Henry Normal's show"

BBC Sounds music radio podcasts. Hello, my name is Henry Normal and in this show I'll be exploring humanity. And what I've found is there are 8.2 billion human beings on this earth, and at 8 o'clock every morning they all seem to be phoning my doctor. I'm here at Te Aon Wai, in a tent tent at the internationally renowned Literature Festival and Car Park. Now I shall be using poetry in the show. Sylvia Plath once said, poetry at its very best can do you a lot of harm. I think you're fairly safe with me.

Now generally we humans are social beings, and I'm very grateful that you've made the effort to come and see me today. And some of you here have even dressed up. Not all of you. I love that. My wife, Anne, she loves dressing up. And what she does is she actually dresses up

to sit in the dark. At the cinema, she goes to the cinema and she dresses up. And I don't understand this, because when I go to the cinema, I'm not expecting Tom Cruise to look down from the screen and say, that's a nice bit of Wal Henry. LAUGHTER Did anybody see him in the last Mission Impossible 300?

LAUGHTER So I say I'm in my late 60s now, so Mission Impossible is just keeping me eyebrows in reasonable condition. Now I tell you what I do I like watching films at home and I like whizzing past the boring bit. I'll tell you where I think the boring bit is. Car chasers. They're always gone too long. They're the cinema equivalent of drum solos. Do you remember back in the 70s when every album had a drum solo on it? And you'd just lift it up. Move to the next track, wouldn't you?

You'd say, I've heard it once, you big show off. And I'll tell you what the worst thing is. Sex scenes. I'm 68. I don't want to be looking at sex scenes on my telly. It's like eating in front of the starving. scenes on my telly. It's like eating in front of the starving. You know that film The Fast and the Furious? I've got that down to five minutes. My version's a lot faster and a lot more furious. Here's a poem called Going Out.

Ange always wants me to take her out but I'm happy where I am. I said you went out on Monday. She said that was a mammogram. Now I did go out on Monday. I went out with Ange on Monday. We went to the pub. Halfway through the night I went to the toilet, when I come back I couldn't find her. So I went up to the bar and I said, erm... I'm looking for Angela. Next thing I know I'm at a taxi home wearing a blonde wig. There's some men in the audience looking very confused. So 8.2 billion humans is a lot but for every human there's 2.5 million ants

and 2.5 million decks. Not the decks, just the ants. So 2. million ants, but there's even more plentiful life forms on the planet. So every human listening to this show consists of 30 trillion human cells and 38 trillion bacteria. So you're more bacteria than you are human, you dirty buggers so 56% bacteria so I thought I'd write a poem to all the bacteria that's listening to the show here we go you're never alone with your own bacteria enzymes and microbes and things in that area no fear they are but a scary inferior anybody's body is best buddy by any criteria. There's an old page of it.

Pace yourself. Right off the bat, without caveat, they produce hormones directing the storage of fat. Not only that, without yeast, at the very least, you'll be in need of a priest and able to feast in short this East. So we're destined to invest in the guest in our large intestine. Without gut flora, in their plethora, every senior eater or senora would for certain be much poorer. Gone for a burden, there's nothing surer.

No ifs, no buts, these guys are no klutz. Almost 600 strains in human guts. Hell's bells, in each of us dwells more bacteria than human cells. They're the kin within the skin, and a joined twin, a win-win. There's no telling where they end. And we begin. So the big question for me is what separates us from wild animals? Well, electric fence is what I prefer. Now it appears there's nothing unique about humans, nothing physically unique about humans.

We're a good design, that's what we are. We're quite sleek, we're like a Spitfire. Although these days I'm more like a jumbo jet with a faulty undercarriage. Though it's evident that there are things different about us in that we are more ambitious than any other animal and we're probably the animal that feels the most entitled, apart from pet cats. Now I wasn't brought up entitled, I was raised on a council estate in Nottingham. My mum died when I was 11 and my dad raised all five kids on his own and he used to work at Raleigh and he'd work seven days a week.

And on Sunday tea time we'd have Tim Fruitt and evaporated milk. Who used to have Tim Fruitt and evaporated milk? Me. Yes, my people. Now mostly it was mixed fruit. Can you remember mixed fruit? What a con. What a con. There were loads and loads of pears, weren't there? Loads of pears, yeah? And loads and loads of cling peaches, weren't there? Clingy cling peaches. An eeny weeny weeny bit of cherry. And you weren't entitled to that bit of cherry. You had to fight for it.

This is a poem called We want the world on a stick and make it quick. We want perpetual perfection yet ceaseless change, Everything to hand that's beyond our range, To exceed fate but with a guarantor. We want everything and more. We want tomorrow, today, to be led and go our own way, precisely the same but better than before. We want everything and more. We want a bigger God with sprinkles on top,

unmade heaven gift-wrapped in the shop, instant eternity delivered to our door. We want everything and more. We want global fame with total privacy, wealth and power way past infinity, a penthouse in paradise, the whole of the top floor. We want everything and more. We want to build and build and never peak a 25-hour day in an eight-day week, dreams of enough we could never hope for. We want everything and more.

We want the multiverse in the kitchen sink, constant entertainment but time to think. We want the ultimate climax, the kitchen sink constant entertainment but time to think we want the ultimate climax than a killer on call We want everything Now self-knowledge that is self-awareness is something that people have cited as being an exclusively human trait Animals can certainly recognize themselves in a mirror. I don't know about you, but I'm getting to the age when I find I'm struggling with that.

LAUGHTER Here's a poem called On Reflection. I need to get a new mirror. Mine's broken. I should bin it. A miserable old bastard seems to be living in it. LAUGHTER APPLAUSE I should bin it. A miserable old bastard seems to be living in it. Not just mine, is it? My friend Brian says the bloke has quite an handsome brow.

My wife tells me it's all okay. A patient woman lives there now. I bought so many mirrors, it can be hard keeping track. And every time I look in one the miserable bastards back. Humans are not unique in using tools. Chimps, crows, dolphins, elephants, octopus, crocodiles and some fish all use tools but they never return them. So I've stopped lending them. Some people say we're different because we're aware of our own death and we bury our dead and of course elephants bury the dead

and they return to the burial sites each year and grieve. This is a poem about death. God I said to Ange Good I said to Ange. I said to Ange, I hope I die first. That would be the biz because I don't really know where anything is.

Making funeral arrangements is not really me. I'm much better at the RIP. I hope I'm first to pop. I'm not good at ends and I wouldn't be much cop at talking to your friends. No, all said and done I said I should be first to go and Ange said to me, Oh I do hope so. Laughter and applause I'm not sure how to take their applause. Here's another poem about death. It's called If We Never Get Chance to Say.

Whichever of us goes first, wherever we go to, however long it takes, I will wait for you. If we live a thousand lives until our time is through, if you still want me, I will wait for you. If we live a thousand lives until our time is through, if you still want me, I will wait for you. Evan is together, home, where you want to be. So I will wait for you, if you will wait for me. The universe may well be vast but you are all I see. So I will wait for you, if you will wait for me. Thank you. And they do say that death poems come in threes.

So this is the third one. It's called Primordial. I've booked an Amazon funeral, so the all they need to dig will have to be much larger as the box is far too big. I'm opting for an open coffin so you can see my face and to ensure Amazon haven't sent me to the wrong place. Don't worry about the transit I should be having a lovely nap on my way to heaven surrounded by bubble wrap.

Some say what sets us apart from other animals is our ability to kill each other. Humans do seem to have mastered the art of being inhumane. Since VE Day there's never been a day without war on Earth. I remember coming back from school as a kid on watching the Vietnam War, and it was on six o'clock news every night, and it was people being napalmed, it was houses on fire, it was people dodging bullets from helicopters. Since we were kids, we've had war on the telly,

and it grinds you down. The Vietnamese won that war. They won it because they were human beings who said they wouldn't be defeated. And now here's the thing. You can go to Vietnam, and Americans go to Vietnam, and they give them five stars on TripAdvisor. And I think to myself, what was all that killing about? Kids and grandkids. They're going to be looking

back at Ukraine. They're going to be looking at Gaza and thinking what's all the killing about? And I was watching the news, the BBC news, and it had a woman on it. It doesn't matter where she was from. She was just a woman in pain. She wanted English, but she had a placard and it was written in English because it's written for you and me to read. And the placard read, Stop killing the children. And I looked at it, and I wasn't moved, because I've had too much of it.

And the camera panned, there was another woman with a placard, and her placard said, stop killing our children. And something about the word our got to me. It's a poem called Our Children. What would it take for you to murder another member of the human race? How angry would they have to make you? Not to kill by mistake but premeditated, to break them at a distance

or face to face as if proximity makes all the difference. What would it take for you to murder a child? What possible excuse could you embrace? What would it take for you to stand by and watch such murder take place? What would it take for you to turn away and erase the image? What would it take for you to speak up and try to put on the brakes if you knew in your heart it was still happening from you who cherished humanity what would it take? Now we humans we have incredible brains and we're able to solve difficult problems when we decide to and we can see the big picture and we can see the small detail.

Here's a poem about that. It's called A Small Corner of Light Blue Sky. Though it hadn't been there when I'd searched before, this morning I discovered, looking through a drawer, a missing piece of my favorite jigsaw. It's the only piece that I was shy that wouldn't be found no matter how hard I'd try, a small corner of light blue sky.

As one mystery decreases, another increases. Now where are the other? 999 pieces. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We have the capacity to eat, but we have the capacity to love.

You'll notice from your pets, we're not unique in this, but it's something to strive for. I'm going to do about five minutes worth of love poems now, which is all I can do these days. Now, the first time I fell in love, I was 14, and I fell in love with a librarian. I didn't say anything. This is called My Heart Will Not Be Shushed. I fell for a librarian. I asked her to be mine. I said my love for you is overdue.

And she said, fine. Thank you. Thank you. This is My Heart Will Not Be Shushed 2. I lost my true love in a library, of that there is no doubt. She was in the reference section and she won't let me take her out. Now I'm not able to go back to the library because I took a book out a while ago with a very hungry caterpillar. I've had it out so long it's had a gastric band fitted.

Even plants have emotions. People talk to the plants. Do you talk to your plants? Play the music. Plants do respond to music. This is a little poem about that. To help it grow I played my plant Coldplay. It quickly grew two legs and moved two doors away.

More of a curse in reverse I want it. Now some people believe that the only hope for humanity is to explore space and I can understand that but people were very mean to Katy Perry recently weren't they? She were up there in space and they were saying it was a waste of money sending her up into space. No, no bringing her back No, no matter So humanity will not last forever. Sorry. I should have given you a spoiler alert there shouldn't I? When I was a kid it used to be nuclear war that we were afraid of. That was the thing that was going to end the world, nuclear war. And there was a period I think when Gorbachev was in power when I felt that we didn't have to worry about that.

We probably still do now. And I know you're not going to believe this, but I actually met Gorbachev. I'm a lad from a Nottingham Council state now. I met Gorbachev. And he said to me, he said, Henry, never name drop. And true to his word, he's never mentioned me. Now at the moment, the top fear for extinction is climate change or AI.

As regards AI, have you ever had this when you go on the internet? Have you ever had it go, are you a robot? It's a robot asking you if you're a robot. Like it wants a date on Tinder. And to prove you're not a robot to a robot you have to identify some bridges don't you which are these photos of bridges right and I always think well if you don't know so if AI takes over the world just run over a bridge that'll confuse it but you see the problem is that algorithms AI it's got

no sense of humor because they lack humanity. Usually when you laugh what you're doing is you're connecting with the humanity in others. Now we're not the only animal that laughs and I know what you're thinking, you're thinking IEna's aren't you? But they don't laugh. You know the noise that IEna makes? That's fear and confusion like if you're at a Morrissey concert. I don't know whether you know this there is actually a human neurological condition whereby the sufferer is unable to laugh it's called a phonogelia it's very rare when I played Peterborough the old audience had it so when thinking about AI

now I should say I'm just gonna stop here so I can if the tent goes up they didn't mention that at the beginning did did they? They said, in case of fire, not if the tank goes up. Grab one of the guidelines. You know, we may all end up in Monmouth, but we'll be together. Right, where was I? Oh yes, so I'm thinking about AI, and I know I'm a bit down on it And I've got to think back a lot of inventions were feared at first Socrates in 370 BC said the invention of writing will produce forgetfulness and only a semblance of wisdom But no real truth or real judgment

Now luckily Plato wrote that down So ironically we now have those words to learn by. Now I don't know whether I've told you this. I am starting to forget the... I've told you that. I'm starting to forget the words. The thing I forget the most, the thing I forget the most is... Passwords. Thank you for reminding me so I've written this poem called I don't

think I've got another password in me you won't accept my password you say it needs to be better I need a symbol and a number and at least one capital letter. You still won't accept my password. It's less than 20 digits long. So I've decided to change it to stick it up your arsehole one. So I did that and he said you had that one last time. This is a poem called When I've Forgotten. When I've forgotten my own face, somewhere in my mind displaced,

And things I hold most dear appear no longer there. Remember for us both love and time still has worth, and the very best of all I was is all because of us. And if again some day we meet, let memories be bittersweet. This absence is just passing through. I live as I always did in you. Alexander Pope said famously, to err is human, to forgive divine. And when we make a mistake we say we're only human. With all the hubris of the human race it's strange that we use the word human to refer to our vulnerability.

But amongst 8.2 billion humans word human to refer to our vulnerability. But amongst 8.2 billion humans, it can be hard to feel special. Even your birthday you share with over 224 million other people. I mean that's a lot of candles. Every day. It's no wonder it's global warming. Now is it anybody's birthday today? Yes, what's your name? Hillary. This is a special treat for you Hillary. A birthday poem for you. It's called a

day you share with roughly a 365th of the world's population go. Another year of sheer decay. Another year of going grey. Nearer the day you're laying clay, Happy Birthday! Hillary! Day. Hillary! You can have that perp at the end. 15 quid. Talking of feeling special I'm going to put my medals on. Angie gave me some medals. I'll describe these for you at home. They're fantastic. I'll lift them up so you can see them. I've got three medals here. You're probably wondering what the one on the right hand side is for well the

other day I was loading the dishwasher I said to Ange I said Ange I've loaded the dishwasher And Ange said, um, do you want a medal? It's that one there. Now the one on the left hand side, it's even rearer this one, I don't know if any of the men have got this one. So what happened there was, I did something around the house a bit of DIY and I didn't mention it to Ange. This one in the middle even rarer so what happened there was Ange was speaking and I thought of something really good to say but I didn't say it I waited until she'd finished speaking and then I

didn't say it what I did was I listened to what she'd said and then I said something appropriate. Now some days as an individual amongst 8.2 billion you can feel powerless but I know that humans when they come together can do more than we can as an individual. Like today we come together as an audience and we can have an individual. Like today, we come together as an audience, and we can have fun. It's a win-win situation. We can come together and make cathedrals. We can defeat viruses. We can defeat tyrants. This is a poem called Empire of Rain.

Rain, by its very nature, is temporary and generally commonplace. Only too much or too little draws particular attention. We name storms, but raindrops are too many to personalize. One spot on its own might not be considered rain at all. At first, we say not that it's raining, but that it's trying to rain, only when the individual is joined by others as it succeeded. Applause

Now the dictionary definition of humanity is human beings collectively, or the quality of being humane. And if you look up the definition of humane, it says, having or showing compassion or benevolence. And I don't know if it's uniquely human, but I like to think compassion, benevolence, and empathy are some of our best human qualities. I don't know if we're better than animals.

Some of us are better dressed. Not all of us. Let's face it, we may think we've got a better deal, but most animals aren't even aware of trade tariffs. And dry robes, air fryers, Fitbits, bubble tea, microdosing, gong baths, or Nigel Farage. Now who's laughing? Even the hyenas. Now this may be the last poem I get to read you so I'm going to dedicate this to all my fellow humans. It's called Hope. If you could put your old life on a table and see all the good and the bad, the joy and the pain, the love and the fear and you were given one

choice, yes or no. Would you live that life? If the answer is no then I hope you have the courage and resilience to grasp what is left of your life and make it into something you would choose? If the answer is yes, I have the same hope for you. A Normal Humanity was written and performed by Henry Normal. It was produced at the Hay Festival by Karl Cooper and was a BBC studio audio production for Radio 4. From BBC Radio 4, this is What Seriously? I'm Dara O'Brien. And I'm Izzy Suttie. And in our new series, we're bringing you short stories and tall tales.

What Seriously? is packed with real life strange but true stories that make you go What Seriously? and provide you with excellent social ammo to impress your friends. The twist is we don't know how each story unfolds and we'll have to figure it out one fragment at a time with our special guests who each have a mysterious connection to the tale. That's right. I am your spy expert. And I don't really want to bring you back to the real facts of the story because you're making me laugh so much, but I feel like I should. We're the only country in the world that eats the animal on our criss, like...

And I never know whether to feel terrible or brilliant about that. All these engineers trying desperately to reduce the amount of dust in space and you get Izzy taking up a balloon full of glycerin. Wow! You're welcome. She'll come up a balloon full of glycerin. Wow! You're welcome. I've had that one at the house. You come up with all the stuff in your head. I know, right?

It's like I'm reading from a sheet or something, but no, I haven't. Join us for What Seriously? from BBC Radio 4, available now on BBC Sounds.